The War of the Roses: The Children

by Warren Adler

  Considering the importance of the occasion, he felt a strange sensation, a mixture of banality, intense grief, and simmering anger. The act itself seemed oddly benign, as if he was simply loading the car to go on a vacation instead of participating in this monumental moment of separation. But the hard slamming of the trunk suggested a symbolic explosion. For the second time, his life was being blown to smithereens.

  He handed her the keys.

  “The kids are asleep,” she said. “I wouldn’t want them to be around now.”

  “I’m glad you waited.”

  They exchanged glances. She was the first to turn away.

  “No emotional good-byes, Josh. No tears. No last-minute pleas.” She gave him a piece of paper torn from a yellow pad. “I’ve made a list of ‘to-dos’ and ‘no-nos.’ Try to pursue the game plan. Follow their regular diet and disciplines. I’ll call every day. And I’ll get the ball rolling about the divorce. Hiring a lawyer is your option.” She paused for a moment. Their eyes met briefly. “Well then, I’m off.”

  He watched her get into the car. The garage door rose and the car headed into the night.

  ***

  Evie arrived by cab in mid-morning. He had managed to get the children off to school with a minimum of mishaps, trying desperately to put a happy face on the situation. When he mentioned that Evie was coming to help them, the children exchanged frightened glances.

  “Mom won’t like it,” Michael said.

  “She’ll be mad,” Emily said.

  “What about you guys?” Josh asked. “How do you feel about the idea?”

  Again they exchanged glances and shrugged.

  “Aunt Evie is fun,” Emily said.

  Michael nodded agreement. Josh was relieved. But there was a still a loose end to consider.

  “Mom said she was going to call every day,” Michael said, the import of his comment obvious. “If we tell her that Aunt Evie’s here, she’ll really be upset. You know how she feels, Dad.”

  “Yes I do. But Aunt Evie is my big sister and I trust her to do the right thing for all of us. Frankly, kids, I need the help.”

  Both children were silent for a while, then Emily said:

  “Let’s not upset Mommy, then.”

  “Good thinking Emily,” he said. He would not have asked them to lie.

  Josh spent the morning on the phone with his office, conferring with his staff and the various account executives. Nothing seemed amiss. Angela was no longer an employee. No one in the firm was the wiser. All was well, as far as his job was concerned.

  As he spoke, he noted the dust outline on the desk where her computer had sat. Again he felt resentment at the removal of their records. Granted that some of the money was what she had pulled out of her law practice, but the fact was that most of their net worth was money he had earned through his talent and hard work.

  ***

  The cab driver, sweating profusely, followed Evie into the house lugging two cartons, one under each arm. He had to make four trips to carry the remaining cartons and two suitcases. Evie led the way, carrying only Tweedledee.

  Josh had forgotten about the cat. Her presence did violate his caveat about not having pets in the house. The ban, of course, had stemmed from his memories of his parents’ terrible conflict in which their pets had become tragically involved in their battle. Both had become, as they say, collateral damage. But Evie had rejected such a ban, and he had no choice now but to accept the visitor.

  “I don’t believe this,” Josh said. He paid the cab driver and embraced his flushed and excited sister as she waddled into the kitchen.

  “I’ve come as fully prepared as possible,” she said, taking a knife and slicing open the cartons. He watched in awe as she removed pots, pans, knives, and other appliances he recognized from his mother’s kitchen. There was a food processor, an electric mixer, a vegetable mill, a drum sieve and pestle, bulb baster, poultry shears, spatulas, scrapers, wire whips, whisks, and a complete set of knives.

  “If Victoria saw this, she’d have a fit,” he said, actually enjoying the display. Of course, he was concerned about the meals she had in mind, but he didn’t have the heart to discourage her. He’d go along, he decided. He was in charge.

  “But Victoria is not here, Josh,” Evie said, laughing, as she emptied another carton filled with food. She removed packages of thick bacon, butter, cheese, cream, candied fruits, flour, oil, cuts of beef, fresh chickens, duck, veal chops, shallots, and truffles.

  “We’ll fill in from the supermarket,” Evie said, opening the cupboards and refrigerator and loading up the goods she had brought. “These are just the basics.”

  “The basics?” he laughed. “Must have cost a fortune.”

  “What is money against what must be accomplished in this house?” she replied, waving her hand over the kitchen in a possessive gesture.

  “Funny, I was just mulling over such a thought. For me, Evie, you are an investment in hope.” He felt his lip tremble with emotion.

  She turned toward him and laid a chubby finger on his lips, stilling them.

  “Now you’re getting the message. Big sister is here to bring happiness and love.”

  He chuckled, feeling good, the earlier wave of depression dispelled.

  “You remind me of Mom,” Josh said, feeling a lump grow in his throat.

  “I hope so, Josh.”

  “Everything looks wonderful,” he sighed, surveying the items she had brought with her.

  “We’re going to feast away all hurt, brother dear. Teach your children the power of the palate, ingestion of God’s true gifts.”

  “Food is love,” he said, smiling, shaking his head in awe.

  “Absolutely. Of the purest kind.”

  He wished that Victoria could be present to observe what was happening. He wanted to see her cool reserve penetrated and would have been delighted to see her truly infuriated.

  Evie bustled around the house, organizing the kitchen. Then she went upstairs and unpacked her clothes in the spare room. When she came down again, she was dressed for going out.

  He drove her to the supermarket to get, as she put it, the “extras.” Going through the aisles, she loaded up on items that he had rarely seen in Victoria’s kitchen, gallons of ice cream and bars of candy in large quantities.

  “Milky Ways, too,” he cried, recalling Michael’s ordeal at school.

  “Absolutely. And Snickers, Baby Ruths, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Good and Plentys, and Tootsie Rolls. These are to be shared with their little friends. Candy means friendship and giving it is the essence of sharing.”

  She put whole milk in the cart, the real thing, not skim milk, then whipping cream, exotic cheeses, three dozen jumbo-sized eggs, a large ham, and a bag of very large potatoes. Also apples, oranges, bananas, pears, persimmons, and every conceivable kind of vegetable.

  “All earth’s bounty,” she said as she carefully inspected each item.

  Josh noted that, contrary to Victoria’s practice, Evie never looked at the nutritional values on the food packages. But he withheld any criticism.

  The children seemed excited and overjoyed to see her in the kitchen when they arrived home. She embraced each of them in turn. When Emily spied Tweedledee, she squealed with delight, embraced her, and cradled her in her arms.

  “We’re going to have one high time for the next two weeks,” Evie said. “Aunt Evie’s on the case.” She gave them each a Snickers bar. Josh noted their cautious glances in his direction.

  “It’s okay with me,” he said. For a moment the health aspects of Evie’s influence cast a brief shadow over his thoughts. He quickly put it out of his mind. After all, it was only a temporary situation. The more pleasure they had, the better.

  He helped each of the children with their homework. Tweedledee was now ensconced in Emily’s room, her litter
box already installed in her bathroom. When he had finished with them, he peeked in at Evie working in the kitchen. She was dicing vegetables.

  “What’s for dinner?” he said playfully.

  “Never you mind,” Evie said. “It’ll be a surprise.”

  He went into the den and poured himself a Glenfiddich over ice, which he sipped slowly. He put Mahler on the stereo, closed his eyes for a moment to let the delicious sound waft over him.

  His eyes roamed over the various objects of her Victoriana collection, the ink wells and vases and porcelain objects, her leather-bound sets of books by Victorian authors, the large-brimmed straw hats lining the walls above the shelving. Her stamp was everywhere in the house, reminders of her influence, her presence, and her authority.

  When Evie called him into dinner, the children were already seated. Tweedledee sat on Emily’s lap. He hadn’t the heart to separate them. The beautifully set table was bathed in candlelight, and the aroma from the food was tantalizing. In the background, Mahler played softly. He promised himself that he would taste everything and try his damnedest to set an example of enjoyment.

  Evie came into the dining room from the kitchen carrying a tureen of soup.

  “Ta da,” she cried, placing the tureen on the table and ladling out the soup.

  “Looks yummy,” Emily said.

  “What is it?” Michael asked.

  “Potage velouté aux champignons,” Evie said giggling. “To you, cream of mushroom soup.”

  Michael tasted it cautiously.

  “Pretty good,” he said, smacking his lips and dipping his spoon in again.

  “Delicious,” Josh said.

  The soup course was followed with another ceremonial entrance, and the clarion “Ta da!” Evie described the offering on the platter as braised filet of beef stuffed with foie gras and truffles, which the children had never tasted before. There were also side dishes of vegetables. Thankfully, Josh noted, she had served each child a sensible portion.

  “Not your usual kid’s food,” Josh said.

  “Pace yourself, children,” Evie said. “Let your palate grow used to this wonderful food that God has given us.”

  “I’m not sure I like it,” Emily said. From time to time she had nipped off little pieces and popped them into Tweedledee’s mouth.

  “You will eventually,” Evie said. “It took Tweedledee a while to savor my cooking.”

  “I love it, Aunt Evie,” Michael said.

  Evie had selected a fine Bordeaux. Josh found the wine delicious.

  “Leave some room for dessert, children,” Evie said, going into the kitchen.

  In a moment, she returned carrying a dessert that looked like a miniature white mountain. Beside it on the tray was a bottle of Cognac.

  “Baked Alaska,” she announced. “The king of desserts. Now we must make it light up the world.”

  She poured a puddle of cognac into an indentation at the peak of the confection. Then she took a box of matches from her apron pocket.

  “Now who wishes to light up the world?” she winked. Both children raised their hands.

  “It’s very dangerous,” she said, offering a tongue-in-cheek warning. “Depending on how much Cognac one pours into it. We don’t want a volcano.”

  “Let me, Aunt Evie,” Emily pleaded. “Let me.”

  She looked toward Michael, who shrugged his consent.

  “You’ll do the next one, Michael. I promise.”

  She kissed him on his head and then gave the match to Emily. She rubbed it against the box, ignited it.

  “What should I do now, Aunt Evie?” Emily said, holding the burning match. Evie guided Emily’s hand to the indentation in which she had poured the Cognac, then lit the liquid. It burst into flames. Josh blinked, and all four of them clapped.

  “Bravo,” Josh said, watching the flame die down. The dessert looked like a snow-capped mountain with hot lava flowing down. When the flame had expired, leaving the mountain burnished, Evie cut into it and gave each of them a big slice.

  “Now this is delicious, Aunt Evie,” Emily said, lapping it up. Michael agreed.

  Calorie-wise, Josh noted, it was more than they had ever had for dinner. His stomach felt a trifle queasy, but he was happily surprised to see that the rich food had no harmful effects on the children.

  “Did you like the dinner Aunt Evie cooked for us?” Josh asked. They each nodded approval and embraced Evie, whose eyes suddenly clouded with tears.

  “I want so much to make you all happy,” she said.

  “You did, Aunt Evie,” Emily said, kissing her on both cheeks.

  “Yes you did,” Michael said.

  “That is my mission, children.”

  Suddenly the telephone rang. Josh and Evie exchanged glances.

  “Probably Victoria,” Josh said. He felt his heartbeat accelerate.

  “I’ll get it, Dad,” Michael said. “Emily, you get on the phone in the kitchen.”

  Josh concentrated on listening to their one-sided responses, mostly short answers, and was gratified to learn that neither child mentioned Evie. Yet, he did have mixed feelings about that. In effect, the children were participating in a conspiracy of silence. Victoria would be furious if she knew. Suddenly, Michael called for him to pick up the phone.

  “Everything seems to have gone very well,” Victoria said, sounding crisp and efficient.

  “Very.”

  “Have you had any luck on help?” she asked.

  “I expect I’ll be able to handle that,” he said, deliberately vague.

  “Good. I’ll call again tomorrow.”

  “Fine.”

  She showed no interest in anything beyond the children. He assumed it was deliberate on her part. She was, after all, withdrawing from their relationship. Their common bond, the children, was to be her only interest. Understanding this fact, he made no inquiries about how things were going with her.

  “Everything okay with Victoria?” Evie asked when he came back to the kitchen where she was now cleaning up.

  “Apparently,” he said.

  “No mention of me?” she asked.

  “Looks like we’re home free on that, Evie. The kids seem to be with us.”

  ***

  After breakfast, on the morning of the Sunday that Victoria was scheduled to take over, the four of them moved cartons of Evie’s kitchen equipment and whatever staples that would not spoil, including the boxes of candy bars, into the storage room in the basement along with some of her clothes. Josh had bought a combination lock for further security.

  “Remember the numbers, kids,” Josh said, letting them both open and close the lock a few times.

  They checked the cupboards and refrigerator for any leftover foods that might meet with Victoria’s objections and carefully scrutinized the spare room for any sign of clothes that Evie may have forgotten.

  This done, Josh and the children went off to the supermarket to stock up on those foods that were Victoria’s normal fare, cereals, fresh vegetables, organically grown free-range chickens, and whatever else was listed on nutritional labels as fat free, low sugar, and low sodium. No red meat, no butter, no eggs, nothing smoked or spicy. No candy. The children, expert in their knowledge of Victoria’s purchases, led the way to her choices.

  “Good work, guys,” Josh said as they loaded the groceries into the van.

  Back at the house, they put the food in the proper places.

  “This isn’t real food,” Evie muttered, reading some of the labels. “These are survival rations.”

  “We’re changing gears is all,” Josh said, offering a smile to the children who smiled back.

  “Remember, kids,” Josh warned when they had finished stocking the kitchen. “You listen to Mommy. When she’s in charge, whatever she says goes. That goes for what she serves an
d all the other rules. Promise?”

  Both children nodded agreement. There was no need to mention the part about Evie. What they had done to hide any sign of her presence was more than enough to send that message.

  ***

  Victoria arrived precisely at eleven. The children greeted her affectionately with hugs and kisses. Victoria wore jeans and a cashmere sweater. Despite Josh’s growing antagonism toward her, he could not deny a tug of attraction. She looked radiant.

  When the embraces and greetings had run their course and they had said good-bye to their father, the children asked her permission to watch television and she consented. It was, after all, Sunday night, early prime time, and they knew the game plan of what was acceptable for their mother. There had been no such restrictions during their father’s tenure. They knew, too, that the transfer of authority had occurred the moment Victoria entered the house, which increased his antagonism and considerably diminished his sense of attraction.

  “Can I get you a drink?” he asked when the children had gone upstairs to watch television.

  “No thank you,” she answered politely.

  They were standing in the living room. His suitcases were packed and had already been placed in the garage prior to loading into the car. Her suitcases, which she had carried inside herself, stood in the hallway at the foot of the stairs. He noted that she had brought her laptop. For a moment, he contemplated asking her, once again, to go over their financial situation, but he demurred. It didn’t seem the right time or place.

  “Is there anything I should know, Josh?” she asked.

  “Nothing I can think of,” he shrugged. “Things at school are fine. They’re adjusting remarkably well to the….” He hesitated. “To the situation. I hope it goes as well on your watch.”

  She let a long moment go by as her eyes roamed the room.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “The children seem different,” she said, her eyes landing on him finally.